Strings of the Puppeteer
by Ookido Shigeru
Summary: Team Rocket sets its sights on the plenthoa of pokémon and research data housed at Professor Oak's lab. To pull off this huge heist, the organization targets a certain former trainer from Pallet... Gary / Shigeru-centric. Slight hints of palletshipping.


First things first: I do not own Pokémon.

Secondly, this story will be told from the third-person, limited perspective. Gary will be the character focused on.

Thirdly, there will be slight hints of palletshipping in later chapters. Not enough to send those that aren't fans of the pairing scurrying away, though. This isn't a romance/love story.

Good. That stuff is out of the way. On with the story!

* * *

**Strings of the Puppeteer**

Shadow on a Leash

* * *

Gary Oak's ocean blue eyes opened halfway and in rushed the stinging pain like a ferocious tidal wave. He instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, but that did not halt the steady flow of pounding pulses. He was drowning in the pain, and he could do nothing but hope that relief surfaced, and _soon_.

Grimacing hard and with a heavy groan, he dazedly asked, "Wh-what happened?" His eyes again opened weakly, although this time, he fought to keep them open. He stared up at a ceiling in a dark room as confusion came crashing down on top of him. Where was he? On his back and in the dark in more ways than one, he sat up on the floor, faster than he probably should have, and as he did, he was hit with a wave of dizziness and slight nausea. He took in a few deep breaths and he pushed himself to weather the storm of unpleasant sensations. His left hand traveled to his forehead.

While holding his head and looking down, he noticed that his belt pack as well as all his poké balls were missing. Alarm and anger instantly crushed what dizziness and nausea he was still feeling.

He looked back up and took in his surroundings. He found himself in a small, small gray room. The titled floor was cool, the walls were plain and the door he was facing didn't even have a knob. There was a small, rectangular window on the left wall near the ceiling. Weak rays of moonlight rained in.

He was a prisoner.

He clenched his teeth and cursed as he rubbed the back of his burning, throbbing head. It felt as if a hitmonlee had used the back of his head to practice its fancy footwork on. It hurt and it even hurt to _think_.

Not thinking was _not_ an option, though. He had to collect the pieces of his memory and piece it back together. He gently rubbed his temple and exhaled heavily.

Fieldwork.

He had been doing fieldwork.

For… for Professor Rowan.

He took turns rubbing his arms with his hands. The relief was short-lived. There was a chill to the room and that chill was making its way beneath his skin. The coolness only served to nurture his uneasiness.

His attention returned to his splintered, jagged thoughts.

A thick and full forest.

Rays of dying sunlight.

A sudden, overwhelming… _**pain**_.

His hands morphed into painfully tight fists and his eyebrows dipped down and slightly inward. Some _coward_ must have hit him from behind and carried him off somewhere! His anger raced to his vocal cords and then, to the room.

"Hey!" he shouted as he got to his feet. The ache ricocheting throughout his body attempted to bring him back down, but he pushed the pain to the side. "_**Hey**_**!**" he yelled again as he strained his vocal cords and approached the door. "Let me _out_!" He began pounding on the sturdy door with his fists. He slammed the door hard several times, but the only progress he seemed to be making was injecting his body with more pain.

He growled through his teeth as frustration and anger continued to build inside of him. He turned his attention to the one and only window in the room. He moved away from the door and stood up against the wall opposite from the window. Not only was it too high, but too small for him to _possibly_ fit through. It also had a metal grate beyond the glass.

Silently, he wondered, "just what kind of place _is_ this?" although he quickly buried that question and instead attempted to focus on his anger, because if he didn't, that would give fear a chance to take center stage, and he didn't want that. He didn't want to even _begin_ to wonder what kind of sick, demented psycho had targeted him… and for _what_, since the person obviously wasn't just after his poké balls.

One thing was for _absolute _sure though: he was _not_ about to give himself over to _anybody_ without a fight. When the spineless weakling that struck him from behind revealed himself…

Adrenaline surged through his body as his ears picked up something. Something that could have only come from the other side of the door. Before he could move or think, the door flung open and revealed an alakazam against a white backdrop. In the blink of an eye, its piercing eyes locked with his. A light blue glow washed over the psychic pokémon's eyes and it was as if something _physically_ drilled through his eyes and deeply penetrated his mind, filling it to the absolute brim and to the point where any more…

He felt himself once again succumb to a suffocating darkness before hitting the floor.

* * *

Gary felt the blurred world around him begin to come into focus as he slowly lifted his sagging head. First, the scaredy meowth stuck him from behind, now the gutless guy had hid behind his alakazam's psychic attack. This guy had _**very**_ good reason to fear him, especially _**now**_…

He put his burning thoughts to rest momentarily and focused his attention on where he was now. He was sitting in a plain, armless, wooden chair in a dark room. Unlike the last room, this one seemed much bigger, and warmer. A few feet ahead of him was a brownish-red rectangular desk, neatly organized and decorated with a green desk lamp, a white phone and some papers. Behind the desk was a brown chair that had its back to him. Behind the chair was a rectangular picture window, covered with horizontal blinds. The only light in the room originated from the table lamp. The only sound in the room was a soft purring.

"Welcome, Gary Oak."

A chill unlike any chill before doused his body the moment his mind placed the voice that had come from behind the chair.

"How are you feeling?" the voice asked in a tone clearly devoid of concern, "is there anything that I can get you?" the chair began to turn and its occupant in an orange suit and red tie was slowly revealed. It was a cold, rigid face that had already appeared in the forefront Gary's mind… and one that had never vacated the back of his mind. "After all, you are a part of our family now, and we take _very_ good care of our family members," Giovanni said with a smile as his eyes joined with Gary's.

Gary did his best to beat down the surfacing memories and feelings associated with that nightmarish day at the Viridian Gym and the …_**attack**_… that Giovanni inflicted on him.

"Family? _**Forget it**_!" he harshly shouted as he jumped to his feet and cast a look of disgust in Giovanni's direction.

The soft purring coming from behind the desk ceased and a threatening snarl took its place.

"This is but merely a suggestion," Giovanni calmly began as he leaned forward and reached down into what was likely a drawer. He pulled his arm back up, and at the end, was Gary's belt pack. "But I would _recommend_ that you sit back down and be a good boy. My Persian tends to play rather… _rough_," he paused as he unzipped the belt pack and casually began examining each of Gary's poké balls. "I am not so confident that any one of your pokémon would be able to keep up with her." His eyes returned to Gary's as he held a poké ball in his right hand.

Gary's hands grew tense and again assumed the shapes of fists. His fists proved to be so tight that jolts of pain shot up his arms. His teeth were noticeable and his jaw was clenched. His glare was sharp with hatred and disgust. With heavy reluctance, he sat back down.

"That is much better. You see, we have much to discuss," Giovanni stated as his smile flattened out and he set the poké ball back down with the rest, next to the belt pack on his desk. He then leaned back in his chair and his hands as well as arms then returned to their earlier positions on the arms of his chair.

Gary eyed the belt pack and poké balls, and pondered whether or not his reflexes could possibly be quick enough…

"Now now. Let me see those young eyes of yours, my youthful friend. I suggest you give me your absolute attention and nothing less. Failure to understand the importance of my words and instructions will most certainly result in the permanent disappearance of one of your pokémon… and I am more than quite certain that you do not desire that."Gary's eyes snapped upwards and his heart nearly stopped. The _disappearance_ of one of _his_ pokémon? As in…?

"If you think you are quick enough, then by all means, let us see if you can snatch your poké balls from my desk. I will play the game, but keep in mind I always play for high stakes, and nothing less."

Gary swallowed hard and barely blinked. A great weight pressed down on him, as if a snorlax or waillord was being lowered down onto him. He couldn't risk it… he could never forgive himself if he wasn't quick enough…

"I see," Giovanni began, his smile returning to life. "No games today, then. Perhaps that is for the better, as we have much ground to cover, and I do not want to keep you up too late. You will be needing your rest for the days ahead."

Gary's brow tightened as he unleashed a searing scowl at Giovanni.

"Oh I like that," Giovanni commented with a light chuckle. "The fire that is burning in your eyes. The rage that is coursing through your veins. The need for action that is building inside of you. This organization values and celebrates such passion."

"In case you haven't heard, I'm no longer a trainer!" he sharply informed him.

"Oh but I have heard. I hear _everything_."

Gary's spine tingled in a not so pleasant way that gave way to quakes of uneasiness that spread like an infection throughout his body, but he did his best to not allow his feelings to surface. He would _not_ show fear.

"I did not instruct my agents to abduct you because of your skills as a pokémon trainer. If a skilled pokémon trainer was what I was after," he paused as a smirk conquered his smile, "I would have targeted Ash Ketchum."

Gary's eyes widened and his breathing momentarily ceased.

"Surprised? I know of all your friends. Not that you have very many, but nonetheless, I know of each and every person that is a part of your life that you consider to be a friend, or _more_. Take the good Professor Samuel Oak, for example…"

Gary could not hold back much longer. His breathing was becoming more sporadic and heavy. His cool, sweaty and tense hands were now on top of his lavender pants and his nails were digging into both material and skin. He _needed_ to do something. He _needed_ to break free.

"Agitated?" Giovanni inquired inquisitively. "You should be smiling."

Gary's left eyebrow twitched upward in confusion.

"Any other person would be smiling from cheek to cheek upon learning that he or she had just saved the lives of every person that mattered to him or her."

Gary went pale.

"Perhaps though, you are different," Giovanni started, although there was not the slightest hint of curiosity to be found in his voice. "You much prefer your own company over the company of others. You interact with others only when it is necessary and even then, that interaction is limited in openness. When you were ten, you traveled with several female companions and yet they were always in the background and never in the foreground with you. You showed off to others, not in an attempt to win over admiration and build friendships, but to fan the flames of jealousy and make people _want_ to avoid you."

The sound of his own heightened heartbeat filled his ears as Gary struggled to understand how Giovanni knew what he once thought only _he_ knew.

"Loners cope with tragedy so much better than those that surround themselves with friends because tragedy is something they go to bed with every night and wake up with every morning. So then, perhaps if something most mysterious yet most unfortunate were to happen to…"

"I care," was all Gary could muster as he cut Giovanni off, unable to follow the words being spoken any longer. The tremble in his throat would permit no other stable words to escape.

Giovanni seemed more than a little irritated by the interruption and as he resumed speaking, his voice had a considerable edge to it, "one of the many things that you will learn as a member of this organization is **respect**. Interrupting a person that is speaking is a punishable offense," he cautioned as he relaxed his tone to one of benevolence, "I will, however, waive punishment as you are new to this organization."

Somehow, in spite of the fear and threats, Gary managed to appear mildly defiant.

"I suggest that you wipe that look off of your face, posthaste," Giovanni instructed. "Unless that is your non-verbal answer to my _offer_. If you do not _want_ to serve me, then do not. You can walk out the door right now, free as a proverbial pidgey. Just do not be at all surprised when you begin to get piece after piece of bad news about those very few that you hold close to your heart as the year unfolds. By Christmas, you will be **alone**. Make new friends in the new year, by Christmas, you will again be **alone**. Marry and have a child in the following year, by Christmas, you once more will be **alone**. No, my young friend. I cannot _see_ your future. I am the _architect_ of your future. Walk out that door this moment, and my organization will never physically lay a hand on you and you will be allowed to live out the rest of your _life_ without worry of Team Rocket ever targeting you again. It's _your_ choice."

With nearly every word that Giovanni impaled Gary with, a part of him died. It was more than obvious that three bozos that harassed Ash on a daily basis were _not_ representative of what the organization was capable of. Still… he _could_ walk out the door and go straight to the nearest police station and fill Officer Jenny in on everything and lead her and the force back here…

Some life and color returned to Gary's face - and Giovanni took notice.

"Do not make a decision while blindfolded. Allow me to do away with your inability to see what has been all around you, regardless of continent and region," Giovanni began with a smile that was enough to make Gary realize that his idea was about to be crushed. "_**Nobody**_ out there can help you. You see, Gary, a person like myself does not remain alive and free without making a _few_ friends here and there, outside of the organization. I am not one or two steps ahead of the authorities, the authorities walk with _**me**_."

Gary's breathing accelerated as a cold sweat covered seemingly his entire body. Not just the walls of the room, but the _world_ was closing in, no, _crumbling_ down around him.

"I am the one and only person that you can trust. I am the one and only person that can help you. With time, your eyes will open and you will see past all the smears and misconceptions that have been painted over the name of Team Rocket."

"Yeah… sure…" Gary remarked flatly as his empty eyes lowered and starred off to a world of ruin. His mouth was drier than any desert out there.

"Well now. That is enough for tonight. Go, rest. Dream of your glorious future as a member of Team Rocket. Tomorrow, we will talk again. An agent will show you to your room."

At first, Gary didn't get to his feet. He doubted whether he even had the strength to stand. He felt broken, defeated. Giovanni's words had speared his heart and soul and hammered his bones.

Giovanni merely smirked.

Gary stood as a tremble repeatedly thrashed at his legs. For a brief moment, he very much considered swinging around, grabbing the chair he had been sitting on, and slamming it down on Giovanni's head. That idea quickly died however as he considered what might happen to one or more of pokémon should something not go right.

His walk towards the door was slow. His legs felt weak, yet heavy. As he approached the door, an eerie feeling wrapped its arms around him and coolly embraced him. He could not help but glance back at the chair he had been sitting in. For a brief, fleeting instant, he swore he could see himself still sitting there.

Motionless.

Stiff.

Dead to the world.

* * *

_To be continued_…


End file.
